Shadowmaiden, Shieldmaiden
by Dweller in the Deep
Summary: *Complete* Eowyn has a split personality, and its destroying her....
1. The Guardian

Shadowmaiden, Shieldmaiden 

Disclaimer: Eowyn belongs to Tolkien. Dernhelm belongs to Eowyn.

Chapter 1

The Guardian 

Eowyn

I was scared at first. There would be times when I would recall nothing for a space of four days. Next I would wake up and wonder what had happened. Then she spoke to me and I realized she was there to help. 

She first appeared when the worm, Grima, began haunting my steps in my tenth year. He would pursue me and I had not the strength to stand up to him. But she did. I created her to save me from him. She was all that I was not. Brave, witty, and strong. 

It is hard to explain. She is part of me, because she is me and I created her. However, I cannot control her actions and she cannot control mine. But I live in fear, because I am weak and I worry that the small part of our mind that is still mine she will one day usurp. 

Nevertheless, she is dear to me. She protects me from the shadows but I sense them seizing her own mind. She makes sacrifices for me, as my brother, Eomer, would. 

He does not know that there are two of us sharing the body of the White Lady. Dernhelm (so she names herself) and I decided to keep it secret. They would not understand. They would say it was black magic and would call their physicians to throw one of us out.

I am skilled with the sword, though I have not the will to use it. Dernhelm on the other hand has extraordinary abilities and she puts them to use shamelessly. 

Poor dear Dernhelm. The world holds little happiness for her. She loves a man that will never love her back. Or does she love? Sometimes I wonder if she is even capable of it. Does she desire his title? Queen of Gondor, she could be. And she would make a marvellous queen. But it shall not be so, for Aragorn loves another. And perhaps he too is doomed to never have that love returned. 

My guardian also puts me in the line of fire. She pushed me to the back of our mind, in the darkness, and seized consciousness. Now I wake to find I am sleeping among the men and I am dressed like one. I know where she is taking us. She whispered to me about it. She wants to fight with the men. I often feal guilt for her. She does not deserve to be weighed down by a coward like me. But now I am dragged along for the ride. It is too late to turn back. Fear takes hold of me. But I will do this. She deserves it. If there is one thing we both agree on, it is that Edoras is a cage. Is she not giving me freedom? Or death?, another part of me whispers. I concentrate hard and call for her in the recesses of our mind. She is coming. She will be brave for us both. 

Dernhelm

She knows naught of a cage. This is a cage. Being trapped in another's body. But I cannot blame her. How I would love to slay that worm, Grima. But I never had the chance and now he is out of my reach. Many years I had been with her before she became aware of me. I would watch with her eyes and see the shadow approaching. But she was oblivious to it. As they all were. Perhaps I saw it because I was made of shadow, of her deepest, darkest thoughts. Things she contemplated in the lonely hours by her window, while the worm prowled outside her door. But now doom was upon us and I heeded its call. I knew it was cruel to her but I had to go. I forced her to the back of our mind and, well, took her hostage. 

Aragorn. There are shadows in his soul that are akin to mine. But he senses some disharmony when he looks at me and perceives the turbulence of our soul. When he denied my aid on the Paths of the Dead I felt despair. Would I always be left behind? I had skill to match the men and yet they took my sword and placed my hands on the harp. Nay. Leave such placid activities to Eowyn. 

She is braver than she knows. For I can only be what she is. But she tells herself that she is not brave, because the men declare she needs protection. So she lends her strength and bravery to me. I am meant to save her. But it is ironic that I am what shall kill her. For she diminishes a little more everyday because I am here. I am the stronger one. But I cannot truly love, for she does not lend that emotion to me. Although soon the decision shall not be up to her. Soon I shall decide what I wish to feel. For I am taking over.

I do not mean to, but she is giving up. The death of Theodred hurt her terribly. She hid for weeks and wouldn't come out. She did not want to deal with reality and her resolve gave her strength. I could not force her back into consciousness (as I was used to doing, for I come and go as I please) but finally she came back of her own accord. 

I have brought the hobbit, Merry, with me, for he also wished to accompany the Riders but was refused. As I look about me I know this is where I am meant to be. I do not mind sleeping on the ground at night or the long rides during the day.

Battle calls me. 

And I am answering.

***

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	2. The Rider of the Mark

* indicates phrases taken from the Lord of the Rings.

And yes, I don't own it. 

Chapter 2

The Rider of the Mark

Eowyn

Doom draws her. But she shall destroy us both. I wait in the shadows for doom to find us. She looks for death, blood, and honour in battle. She makes it sound glorious but I have not the nerve to partake and not the strength to stop her. 

The Elf, Legolas, had _known. _He had looked through her eyes and perceived me sitting in the darkness waiting. Silently, we plead with him to keep our secret. He had nodded ever so slightly in agreement and, to our knowledge, complied with our wishes. But he was most likely dead now. Along with Aragorn, for they had taken the Paths of the Dead, from whence none had returned.

I find that my will is present in less of our decisions. Before I at least argued with Dernhelm if I disagreed with her. But now…it is all too much. I grow weary and the shadows are beckoning me. _Rest little one for this is beyond you…_they whisper and now I give in, falling into their calm embrace…

Dernhelm

It is dawn. Five days since we set out. _Battle _draws nigh. The word tastes delicious on my lips. Now I shall show them all! 

We ride swiftly into the affray. Eowyn is trembling somewhere in the back of our mind. I spare a few words of encouragement for her before leaning down from my steed to cut the head from an orc. And then I feel its blood on my hand and my heart soars! The hobbit clings behind me on the saddle. But my thoughts quickly shift from him to the winged demon whose shadow travels over us and hovers like a black cloud over our king.

'No!' Eowyn cried, but I regained control and pushed her back.

My steed could not bare the frightful presence of the Nazgul. No horse could. He threw us and bolted away. I stand to find the Kings steed, Snowmane, has fallen. The King lies motionless beside him. I feel tears staining my cheeks. The King had been like a father to me. The ghastly bird of shadow digs his talons into Snowmane. Still more horrifying than the bird is its rider. The Lord of the Wraiths sits atop it and his eyes are like drowned stars amid his face of blackness. Our lives are much alike. We were both created at the bidding of another and to protect our master. But my sinews are made of flesh, not sorcery, and there is still some light in my soul. 

I do not fear him. 

*'Begone, foul dwimmerlaike, lord of carrion! Leave the dead in peace!'* I cried. Eowyn is telling me to flea. _He will kill us!_ she whispers to me urgently.

*'Come not between the Nazgul and his prey!'* the wraith replies icily. Curse my blood, for he chills it.

*'I shall hinder thee if I may.'* I reply, and for the first time I realize how insignificant I am and I begin to doubt myself.

*'Hinder me? Thou fool. No living man may hinder me!'*

And then I laughed. Defiance rose again within me. I gave him Eowyn's name and claimed the King as my kin.

Then the creature beats its hideous black wings and screeches at me. Rising into the air, it tries to strike at me with its menacing beak.

But I remain, still as stone. I sensed Eowyn tensing as the creature bore down upon us. She was waiting for death, but she should have had more faith in me. Had I not saved her before?

I dealt a swift blow that sundered the beaked head from its foul neck.

From the ruin of his steed, rose the black rider, his eyes glittering maliciously. Looming over me, like a snake poised to strike, he brought his mace down upon my shield with a force that broke my arm. 

I stumbled to my knees. Pain danced like fire through my arm. His shadow cut out all light of the sun as he rose to a still greater height. In his pale eyes I saw my death mirrored. He brought his mace up to kill.

At the last moment, I saw Merry stab the vile being behind the knee. His stroke missed me, crashing into the ground instead. 

For a moment I struggled, on the edge of consciousness. Weariness was threatening to consume me. But I managed to stand and drive my sword into his shadowy form.

Then I silently bid goodbye to Eowyn and I knew no more.

****

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	3. The Shadow Realm

Chapter 3

The Shadow Realm

Eowyn 

Fear burnt like fire within me. But not for her. She feared nothing, not even him. But I, I squirmed under his ceaseless stare. His gaze cut through me like bitter knives. I was trapped there. I could not force her to go and then it was too late. We both spiralled down into the dark abyss.

Silence pressed in on my ears. I woke to find I was lying on a cold, black floor. This was the Shadow Realm. Where the sick waited to either wake or die. Lightning rippled across the endless ceiling and its white light flickered across my skin for a moment before plunging me into darkness again. Never was the silence broken.

I felt strange and alone. I sensed Durnhelm's presence less keenly, and there was something else. The wraith was here too. We had destroyed each other and brought ourselves here. I could not _see_ him, though I knew he was there. Somewhere. But he was only a shell of his former malice and could not instil me with fear, as he had before.

Dernhelm

Indeed, he was here, prowling the shadows and licking his wounds. But it was over for him. He could not escape this place. I am master here. And now I know how it is for Eowyn, to have your personality spliced and your privacy assailed. For now I am the invaded, not the _invader. _But I do this now because I must save her. I will not let his evil curse, the Black Breath, infect her. I have taken it upon myself and it is slowly destroying me. I will miss her. I care for her as a daughter.

A voice is calling. _Eowyn,_ it says. I know the voice. It is that of Aragorn. And now I smile, for I had not hoped to hear him again. But he is here with us. He walks in the shadows, searching for her. Calling her back to the light. I see him. A silver glow is about him.

'Hail Aragorn!' I cry. He comes to me and holds out his hand.

'Eowyn. Come, your brother awaits thee.'

I laugh and shake my head.

'Alas, for I am not she whom you seek. I fear you shall never find her here. She does not know the ways and you may search forever.' 

'Then how shall I find her?' he asks. He regards me curiously.

'I shall bring her to thee. Farewell, my lord. This shall be the last you see of me.' and I smile and kiss his cheek. He may be the King of Gondor now but this is my realm and none shall daunt me in it.

Pacing the shadows, I see her ahead, lying in the dark and staring up at the ceiling. The shadows are clinging to me more now. My sight is loosing its sharpness. But I call for her and she quickly stands. 

'Derhelm?' she answers uncertainly. But I am not Dernhelm anymore. I am a shadow, and I am fading. For shadows cannot exist in the night and the wraith has brought the eternal darkness upon me.

Eowyn

Her raiment is black, as is her hair. But her features are mine. I go to her.

'The King awaits thee.' she says, 'He will take you back to the light.'

'And you?' I ask, for her voice sounds strange.

'This is my world, Eowyn. You will not be plagued by shadows anymore. I shall keep them away from thee.' 

And then, either my vision blurs or her outline does. She falls to the floor. I rush to her side and cradle her head on my lap.

'Do not leave me! I need you!' I cry, but she is fading.

'Look for me in the shadows.' she whispers and then I find I am holding air.

'Dernhelm!' I scream. But she does not answer, for she is not there.

The lightning ripples across the ceiling again, but this time it booms tremendously and tears at the inky blackness, revealing a blue sky. 

I find myself standing on a green hill in Rohan. Below, a man is beckoning me to come. It is Aragorn. 

I have mixed feelings for him. I love him because Dernhelm did, in her own fashion. But I dislike him because of the pain he caused her.

Still, these are thoughts for another time. I run along the green grass. It seems an age since I have felt this free. But there is an emptiness which Dernhelm used to occupy and I feel this keenly.

'Are you ready to return?' Aragorn asks as I reach him.

I glance about my surroundings one last time.

'Yes.' I reply as he takes my hand.

I open my eyes and Eomer is beside me. Aragorn has left. I scan my surroundings but they are alien to me. 

'Eomer?' I say, or at least I try to. A hoarse whisper is all I manage. He is calling my name and crying.

We talk of Theoden King for a while, but weariness overcomes me. So I sleep and forget the ills of the past. 

How ever much my body may rest, my mind does not. There is dissension inside me. Whatever convictions and feelings Durnhelm possessed have now passed to me. Aragorn has marched east with Eomer. I hate being left behind. I have been overwhelmed with anomalous thoughts. Of late, I yearn to pick up my sword and fight alongside the valiant captains, in the east. It seems that a part of Dernhelm may still lurk in the shadows of my heart. Idleness had become wearisome. I demanded the Warden release me from this place, the Houses of Healing. But he would not release me and, instead, brought me to the Steward of the City, the Lord Faramir, so that I might discuss my complaint with him. I found that the Steward dwelt in the same houses as I, for he had been wounded in battle. He stood in the gardens, facing east. The warden called to him, announcing my arrival. He turned to me. His hair was dark and his eyes grey and full with pity.

He gave me permission to walk the gardens, so that I might look east to where all our hopes lay. And then I left him there, returning to my chambers to rest.

I met him again in the gardens, the following day. I found myself at ease in his presence. We would talk of our homes and our families, but never the shadow. Such memories were still too fresh in the minds to share, even in the light of day. 

The days slowly passed. I sought out, more and more, the company of the Steward. Then, ten days since the passing of Dernhelm, the fall of Theoden, and the destruction of the Ring-wraith, came news of the victory of the West. Faramir had taken on the burden of the Stewardship and I now saw him little. The people celebrated and were merry. But not I. What joy had I in living? Dernhelm was right in taking us to war. She had found release, while I was made to live on in this world of light. I feared the future without her. Was I strong enough to look after myself?

It seemed that my discord showed on my face and I grew ill again. Faramir came to visit me. I believe this was the Warden's doing. 

He asked me why I did not go to Cormallen, as my brother had bidden me. But it seemed that he knew the answers already. He continued on to chastise me for my foolish lust for Aragorn. And then he told me he loved me and asked me if I loved him in return. How to answer? How to tell him that my soul is in disarray and I know not if what I feel is true or the remnants of another's desires? But I do answer, for I realize it has all fallen into place and he was the piece that was missing. 

The shadow had departed, but my happiness need not.

I will wed him and we shall live in bliss, in Ithilien.

The years passed. People cannot forget what they did not know existed. So it was for Dernhelm, the unsung hero of the Pellenor Fields. For all her praise they gave to me. And even Faramir did not know of the woman who was once part of me, who had perished to save me. I look upon my eldest daughter, Oloren. Perhaps I am slightly biased towards her, but it seems to me that Dernhelm lives on in her. 

~The End~

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